


Pantheon

by varevare (varebanos)



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, F/M, Human Sacrifice, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-17 15:43:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2314820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varebanos/pseuds/varevare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greek gods do what Greek gods want, and sometimes mortals get caught in the middle. Tim is not happy with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blood makes noise

It had been a good month. White walls and linen tunics reflecting the sunlight, kids playing, cicadas singing…  
  
However, two days before the due date of the offerings, it started raining out of nowhere. It wasn’t anything worth noting, seeing as it happened each year like clockwork. It wouldn’t stop until the sacrifice was made.  
  
Tim’s city was a lucky one. They had never been asked for valuable sacrifices, nothing but a newborn cat or dog. There were many around, seeing as their ruling deity had power over animals. The island was rich in fauna. Even in some rare years where no small animals had been found, their alternative offerings of sheep and cows had been accepted.

  
  
There was a war forming in the horizon, though, and the city’s elders decided it was time to go beyond mere pets if they wanted to ensure the population’s safety in the battles that were certain to come. After all, other cities were way better off in that sense, and none of them had acquired great warriors and fearsome armies with mere small animals that nobody had a use for. Indeed, only an offering of the highest degree would make a difference now.  
  
What better than the first born and heir from a prominent family?  
  
That was basically how Tim found himself standing in front of the city’s temple.  
  
In truth, it wasn’t even part of the city. The sanctuary had been set in the middle of the forest in a time before anybody could remember, half hidden in the middle of the vegetation but still impressive and terrible. The reliefs, which Tim had only had a chance to look at from afar before that day, seemed to mock him with their bright colors and the alien shadows that the torches casted on them. They looked barely real in the middle of the storm.  
  
Nothing looked real at that point.  
  
His own name -Timothy, loved by god- had become a joke ever since the elders sent the guard to bring him with them. He hadn’t even thought of resisting or fighting back. After all, what would he do, son of rich merchants, running away from a prosperous city just as the war started? He was no hero. His place wasn’t looking for the Golden Fleece. His place, apparently, was inside the temple he had wondered so many times about, and from where nothing had ever come back. As often as he had been told that their deity was a benign one, the perspective of meeting one seemed terrifying.  
  
Would he be eaten? He knew that the sacrifices sent to some foreign gods were, but those got executed beforehand. Tim hoped he wouldn’t be eaten alive. What did gods look like, anyways? Maybe he would be swallowed whole. Maybe he’d just be taken to the Hades, where he’d wait for his friends and family that would be sent to the war. A painless death was the only thing he could hope for at that point.  
  
Seeing the gloomy faces around him, he realized nobody hoped anything better for him, either.  
  
After the chants ended, the major priest signaled him to go ahead. He’d walk alone, because no mortal was allowed to set foot inside the temple. His fate was waiting for him beyond the dark gateway.  
  
He allowed himself a moment to imagine turning around and running away, across the city and into the sea. It would mean death either way, with the storm around them being this strong. He was dead already. Somewhere behind the priests, in the crowd, Tim thought he could hear his mother crying over the raining and thundering. He had been dead ever since his name came out of the urn.  
  
Putting one foot in front of the other, he walked towards the temple. The storm got louder with each step -or maybe it was just the crowd being further away now. Tim didn’t even remember he was wet until he reached the porch and his wet steps echoed against the giant stone walls. The air in front of him felt dead. He’d die cold, wet, and miserable. It was appropriate, somehow.  
  
As he crossed the gateway, darkness enveloped him, and he stopped hearing the crying, and chanting, and even the storm.  
  
He turned around and found nothing. Crouching, he touched the ground. It was the same rock that paved the city’s agora, but when he walked around, he was unable to find the rock walls that were supposed to surround him. If he was in the Hades now, it was nothing like the stories said.  
  
And he was still cold and miserable.  
  
Then, he heard a voice speaking, and and he felt himself die twice of fear.  
  
"Where are you? Come here, don’t be scared."  
  
If there was anything he’d learned from the stories his mother told, it was to never trust a strange voice coming from the dark telling you to get closer. Specially if that voice was that of a little kid. Nothing good ever came from little kids hiding in the dark.  
  
Slowly, Tim started to notice a smell. It reminded him of fresh, bloody meat, just slaughtered before the servants threw it to the pot. He remembered that gods had, no doubt, all the meat they could want in the Olympus and therefore it was stupid of them to ask for Tim to be added to the banquet. And he’d have spent longer pondering about that matter, if it wasn’t because he noticed footsteps -together with the strangely high pitched voice- were approaching him. After a couple of seconds, there was no doubt: Tim’s eyes might not be adapted to the darkness yet, but somebody else’s there were. Maybe Tim’s sight had been taken from him so he wouldn’t see the horrors awaiting ahead, but it was too much for him. Abandoning his passive attitude regarding his upcoming fate, he turned on his heel and ran.  
  
The darkness seemed to shake around him, and the smell of blood became more intense. Until barely two seconds later he had to stop. A small, slightly glowing figure was in front of him, glaring and holding a plate of meat between his hands.  
  
“What are you doing?!” the figure -the kid, Tim realized. Tan skin, elegant features, hands obviously unused to any kind of work… “Why are you here?”  
  
“Are you another sacrifice?” Tim stepped closer. The kid had to be at least four or five years younger than himself, but he obviously came from a good family. Of course, with a war approaching there was no way his city was the only one changing customs. “How long have you been here?”  
  
“Don’t be ridiculous.” The plate now wasn’t in the kid’s hands, nor anywhere, but Tim hadn’t seen him put it away. Slowly, the smell of blood started to disappear, too. “What do you mean ‘another’? Are you a sacrifice?”  
  
Tim nodded, surprised at the other’s reaction. Obviously, with that reaction, the kid wasn’t a sacrifice, but there was still no explanation as to why he was so angry.  
  
“Are you from the city by the sea?” The kid continued, and Tim responded with another nod. “But that island isn’t supposed to send anything but newborn animals!”  
  
“The war was coming and the elders decided we needed-” the word ‘we’ felt weird, now that it pointed to something Tim was clearly not a part of anymore. “I guess they decided something more valuable was necessary.”  
  
“That’s not theirs to decide!” The kid stomped on his foot, making the stone floor shake. If Tim hadn’t been sure the kid wasn’t human before, he’d be now. “The sacrifices are for me! I should just ignore them for a whole year, now that I know I’m not getting anything.”  
  
Tim blinked twice, surprised. He found that he wasn’t scared anymore. The deity he had been so scared of -the tamer who could control the beasts and nature itself- was just a kid.  
  
“Are you Damian?”  
  
“What if I am?” The kid, with his long eyelashes and big eyebrows, glared at Tim again. Ridiculous, really, to be scared of such a face.  
  
“Well, if you’re him, then it’s not true you’re not getting anything this year.” Tim crossed his arms over his chest. “I got sent here for you. Now you owe my city protection for the war.”  
  
Damian waved his hand dismissively.  
  
“That’s all great, but you’re not what I wanted.”  
  
“Why not? Whatever a small dog or cat can do, so can I. My only reason to exist right now is to fix this deal. Even if you eat their meat. I have more in my bones than a newborn kitten, of that I’m sure, and I’m healthy.”  
  
“Eat?! Do your people eat pets?” Damian looked scandalized at the idea. “I might have to reconsider my patronage of your city.”  
  
"…you take them as pets?" Tim couldn’t help it: he smiled. "So after all, you’re just a little kid who is upset over not getting a puppy or kitty like he wanted, right?"  
  
"Shut up!" Damian roared, and the sound was barely human. A rumbling noise came from under the earth, and despite being certain that he was taller than Damian, Tim felt himself dwarf in front of him. "I said I have no use for you. You are to remain here until I decide the best way to dispose of you. Meanwhile, your city will receive no protection from me. You broke the terms of the deal. I’m done with you."  
  
Damian’s figure dissolved in the dark, and the shadows grew thick enough to swallow Tim’s mind as well. Tim’s last thought was to wonder just how, of all things, had he managed to get rejected as a sacrifice. Even if he were to remain in that space forever, it wouldn’t matter to anybody. It didn’t even matter to him, after all.


	2. Walking on sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim wakes up. He's not really sure of what did he wake up to.

Everything was green. That was the first thing Tim noticed upon waking up. The light coming through his eyelids was a bright green, and there was something warm next to him. It was rather comfortable. The memory of the cold sweeping through his wet clothes was still close in his mind. He didn’t want to move.

The last thing he remembered was darkness. There had been a strange kid too. He had sent him somewhere, hadn’t he? It was hard to imagine that the place he’d send him to could be pleasant in any way. At least, his surroundings seemed way too bright to be in the hades.

That still left a myriad of options. He tried to ignore the small voice in his mind telling him that he was safe. He couldn’t trust it.

He still didn’t muster enough strength to move for a while.

After what seemed like too short of a time, he started to feel hungry, and the soft ambient sounds that he had just noticed seemed to get louder. He opened one eye, discovering that the green he had last noticed was grass, and nothing more. He was in a small valley between two hills with the shiniest vegetation he had ever seen. There was no place like that anywhere in his polis, and Tim knew. Everything changed from the deep green in winters to the pale yellow in summers. Nothing but rare foreign jewelry could compete with this.

When he turned to look behind himself, he saw the source of warmth was a veal sleeping next to him. It didn’t move when Tim sat up. Instead, it kept breathing peacefully.

Tim was stunned.

It was surreal, but it almost looked like the sacrificial veal from a couple of years before as a thank you for a particularly good harvest. Kon had spent weeks bragging about being able to capture it completely unharmed. Two meters ahead, there were two rabbits playing, as white as sea foam and without a care in the world. Beyond, between the grass and the trees came through the sounds of other animals.

Tim stood up on shaky legs and walked uphill. Beyond that, only more trees and animals as far as his eyes and the terrain allowed him to see.

On one hand, Tim was reasonably sure that he wasn’t dead and in the hades. Too much sun, not enough wandering lost souls.

On the other, he didn’t have the slightest idea of where he was.

Maybe it was the hades of animals. Tim always thought they deserved better than people. That might be the reason why many reminded him of the tributes sent to the temple.

No, that was nonsense. There was nothing that felt in any way different from the real world. There was something nagging at the back of his mind, but Tim couldn’t remember what might it be for the life of him. The last he remembered was the rain. The temple, the sounds, and the darkness beyond the gates… A kid?

There was a young voice saying something somewhere in his memories.

It was an annoying voice, and Tim hated it.

Deciding that he wouldn’t get anywhere sitting there and looking at all the fluffy animals, he stood up and started walking. If this was the real world, he’d get somewhere at some point. Hopefully, signs of other people.

It didn’t take long. In fact, it took a surprisingly short amount of time. Past the third or fourth hill there was a house, bright white in a way that hurt the eyes. It wasn’t a palace, but it was clearly prosperous, with the fountain full of clean water sparkling in front of the entrance.

It was, also, suspiciously empty of people. It looked like someone had set it up and left, but there was no one to be seen or a road in the grass that might indicate where did they go.

Well, there wasn’t much for Tim to do at that point other than grabbing something to eat. He hadn’t even noticed he had started to get hungry. He walked through the open gate and grabbed a fruit from a basket.

After a couple of minutes eating he noticed some of the animals had followed him in, and were looking between the food and him with pleading eyes. Whoever was the person living there, they obviously took care of the animals. Or at least spoiled them sometimes. With a shrug, he grabbed a piece of fresh bread from the table and started giving out pieces. It was a mistake, because slowly more and more animals arrived, apparently having decided Tim was their new master. Maybe this was the land where animals have no survival skills whatsoever.

By the time he ran out of bread, there had to be at least three dozens inside the house. The cats -at least the ones not currently perched and purring on Tim- were exploring the shelves and tables. A pot met its swift end on the floor.

It was probably for the better if he just left discreetly before the owner arrived. He had places to explore, anyways.

Carefully removing the animals from his lap and walking past the rest, he exited the house and continued walking in the direction he had started on. He briefly wondered if he was at least near his polis. It hadn’t been that long since he entered the temple, right? He couldn’t have gotten that far. The feeling nagging at the back of his mind continued, but it didn’t help shed any light upon his situation, so Tim decided to ignore it and continue his plan.

A couple of minutes later, over the small noises of the animals following him that he tried his best to ignore, he heard the sound of water. Of course, a house that isolated and not even a well? There has to be a source nearby, and every river leads to civilization and the sea, right? Please?

It wasn’t hard to find a small, sparkling creek running between two hills with animals drinking from it.

Everything in that land was so bucolic that it was starting to piss Tim off, but he forced himself to concentrate in his objective and kept walking downstream. The place might be beautiful, but it was unreal, and Tim would have traded all the fluffy bunnies and sparkly water for being back with his friends making jokes and petting Kon’s old dog. If it hadn’t been for that stupid brat-

Who was that brat? Tim wasn’t completely sure, but he knew the kid was to blame for his current situation. Even is he was just a silhouette in Tim’s memories surrounded by darkness and a faint feeling of terror. One infuriatingly short figure.

Damn him.

Tired of walking, because the time moved slowly when everything looked the same and bunnies tramped your feet, Tim sat down on a flat rock. The sun had been rising higher, and the soft sounds of water and animals made everything seem more like late spring than early autumn like Tim knew it should be. He was never going to make it home at that rate.

No one was waiting for him there, anyways.

His eyes widened at the realization. His city was the reason he had gotten into all this mess to start with. Why was he trying to get back there? He loved his family and friends, of course, but he didn’t have a place there anymore.

Well, it would be nice to be able to tell them he wasn’t dead, but the elders would probably blame him when the sacrifice failed and war started, right?

Because the sacrifice had failed. Tim knew it had. Even if it wasn’t entirely clear why did he knew to start with. Maybe because he was supposed to have died? It was ridiculous to start with. At least appearing into some strange land wasn’t that bad. He’d never be hungry as long as there were so many rabbits prancing around, and even if he was in an island, the house proved there were inhabitants.

Moreover, he’d be able to do something other than follow in his father’s footsteps. It was a pretty good deal, all things considered.

All thanks to the deity of the polis, Damian.

Tim laid down and looked up at the impossibly blue sky above him. He knew his situation was Damian’s fault, but it wasn’t only because the elders had decided to sacrifice him to the temple,. There was something else, in the same foggy area of his memory that told him the sacrifice was a total failure.

The sky reminded him of someone’s eyes. He concentrated on the color. For an instant, the soft noises around him seemed to quiet down, and the dull thrumming in his ears returned.

Damian, the deity of the temple. One of the grandiose statues appeared in his mind. Slowly, it morphed into Damian, the short brat with the blue eyes that only wanted cute animals as sacrifices.

He remembered.

"That stupid brat!" He snapped, slamming his palms flat against the rock. At least now he knew how he had gotten there. "God of nature? More like god of pets! How have we have wasted so much time worrying about what he wanted us to do? What a load of nonsense."

"I heard that."

A face appeared in his field of vision. A dark, small, grumpy face with eyes that perfectly matched the sky.

Well, he’d be damned. Tim sat up. Then stood up, because he didn’t like letting Damian have a single inch over him.

"Were you spying me?"

"Of course I was watching you, I cannot allow humans in my realm without surveillance." There was a touch of color in his cheeks. If Tim didn’t know who he was he’d have taken him for a completely -mostly- normal kid and not for the all powerful deity his polis thought he was.

"Your- does that mean that these really are the sacrifices you have received all these years? You did keep them as pets, didn’t you."

"Actually there’s some extra. The rabbits started breeding and it took me a while to fix the source." Damian stopped talking suddenly and glared up at Tim. He obviously hadn’t intended to say that. "But that’s hardly any of your business. I don’t know what to do with you. You can’t do anything except walk around looking pretty."

"I thought that’s what your animals did." Tim paused. "Wait, did you just say I look pretty?"

"You misheard." Damian harrumphed. "Honestly, I fail to understand why would your polis send me an ugly, apparently deaf kid instead of the agreed sacrifice. Did you run out of animals?"

"My polis considers me more valuable than an animal, for your information," Tim snarled. The brat was too infuriating even for his own self preservation instincts. "If you could protect us properly from the upcoming war this wouldn’t have happened!"

"You’re not at war! I’d know if you were at war!"

"Really? Because you don’t sound all that sure. Though it’s not like I care. Or expected you to care."

"What I do or not do regarding my polis is none of your business." Damian pouted.

What a great deity he made.

"I only want to know what are you going to do with me right now."

Damian gave him a slow once over. It made Tim’s skin itch all over. He didn’t want to return home on principle, but right at that moment he’d give anything to be there again.

"Well. I’m not going to leave you here. These are my animals and you’re a savage. For all I know you might eat them."

"You know they eat each other too, right?"

Damian blinked. “No they don’t.”

"You know, for being the God of animals you sure seem to have no clue of how do cats work."

"I know they eat meat, but they don’t eat each other. That’s cannibalism."

"And where do you think they get all the meat from?"

"I make it." There was a pause. "You think being part of the pantheon is only getting sacrifices?"

"Well."

Damian glared, and for a brief moment the uncomfortable sensation returned to Tim’s stomach. The next thing he knew, damia was holding a plate of meat. Which he promptly threw to the animals waiting nearby.

Alright, so maybe in some subconscious level Tim had known Damian wasn’t human. And that he had enough power to warrant the adoration he received from his city, even if his terrible personality made him undeserving. But one thing was that, and another was directly witnessing it. Maybe his arrival to the field had been a show of power as well, but it’s hard to witness miracles when you’re unconscious.

"Yet you still can’t decide what to do about me?"

"I haven’t said that. I’m just taking you with me for the time being."

"Why not just leave me with food?"

"Because I can’t trust you, I already told you. Is there anything wrong with your ears?"

"So you’re abducting me?"

Damian blushed and scowled.

"Your people sent you with me and you walked into the temple willingly. You can’t accuse me of anything of the sort." He grabbed Tim’s wrist. "Stop being so contrary and come with me."

"What if I say no?"

Almost before he could finish that sentence he felt the darkness and cold surround him again and his conscience abandon him.

He’d be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You just know that Damian spoils all the animals and naps with them


	3. Father's day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very much not about Father's day. Bow down to Talia, queen of the pantheon in this universe!

It was shameful for the whole city. To sacrifice one of their own, one of his friends! Kon, like many others, had been against the idea from the start, but the elders weren't an agreeable group. They had been determined in their belief that giving Damian something bigger, more valuable would be the only way out.

He had always respected the rules, at least, the important ones. Never got in trouble that warranted any further punishment than a slap on the wrist and a stern lecture from his father Alexander.

They had gone too far, though.

The storm lifted up, and Tim didn't come back. He didn't come back the next day, nor the day after. The elders determined it meant Damian had accepted their sacrifice and that they were under his protection, again, but Kon wasn't going to accept such thing. So he broke the biggest taboo in the polis. The night of the fourth day, armed with nothing but an oil lamp, he snook into the forest and into the temple area.

The sun had completely dried up the stones. Storms in the island were usually sudden, dramatic, and left as fast as they came. And it had taken every sign of Tim ever being there with it.

When he arrived to the gates, Kon looked up at them. There were intricate carvings and designs praising the strength and wisdom of the divinity, and promising terrible curses to anyone who dared to break in.

He couldn't care less about it. The divinity, the door, and the people who made it.

He had no key. It didn't matter. Kon hadn't used his capacities for years, but extreme situations required extreme measures. Taking a breath, he pushed the door in.

The metal bars holding the door shut screeched under the pressure, bending and breaking apart from the wood. They would be expensive to repair, but his father could afford it. Kon just hoped he'd forgive him.

The inside of the temple smelled wet, almost, but not quite, that terrible night when Tim was made walk in. That wetness had been like the forest. Strong, alive... The inside of the temple was just dark and still. More of a pond than a stream.

And Tim wasn't there. In fact, he might have never stepped in, for all the matter. Kon couldn't hear him, or smell him, or see any way out other than the door he walked through.

He usually could do it. He could hear the heartbeats of everyone inside a room. He could see through walls and trees, and, well, open the door gates on his own. But he couldn't find where Tim had gone.

Well, maybe he could guess. Damian might have accepted him as a sacrifice, as the elders said. Them being evil didn't mean they couldn't be right. Kon wasn't going to just sit on his hands and accept it, though. He couldn't smell Tim, but he couldn't smell blood and death in the air either. It smelled empty, like Tim had never been there.

Which meant he had been taken alive.

And that he was out there, somewhere.

Maybe it was time for Kon to pay his other father a visit.

-

Despite what Tim might think about Damian's domains, Damian felt just as comfortable in the middle of a palace as in the countryside. Of course, Tim couldn't see him now, walking with long steps through the halls. It was his birthplace, and where he spent most of his time. However, his domains were made with his offerings in mind -those that Tim had called "pets" and they needed no buildings.

Damian's step faltered for a second at the thought of his lastest gift. That man... He was human, wasn't he? Damian hadn't asked for him, but he was still his. Maybe he should add a palace or two. How many palaces were needed per human? He should have paid more attention to his polis.

The thoughts flew away as the doors to the main hall opened. Despite his short height, everyone noticed his presence immediately. Soon, his mother was rushing to receive him, picking him up and kissing his cheeks, not caring for Damian's scowl in the slightest.

"Damian, how have you been? Did you get your birthday gift already? What was it this time?"

"Mother, stop it!"

He struggled to get out of Talia's hold and onto the ground, rubbing his now wet cheeks with his cape. Such a disrespect to the ruler of the Olympus would never be tolerated from anyone but him. However, no other deity received such embarrassing shows of affection as he did. He preferred them in private, and his mother knew it well.

"Fine, come on dear." She took Damian's hand -any struggling in this sense was useless, his mother had an iron grip- and lead him away to a small balcony. Small by the Olympus standards, which meant that it could still host comfortably 20 persons.

"Mother, must you always embarrass me so?"

"It's not my fault that you keep such a small, adorable form."

"You know well my offerings run away unless I use this one."

Talia sat back on the lounge chair that dominated the space. She looked regal, with strong features and a self assured way to carry herself. How could she not be, being the ruler of all the gods? She was the kind of beauty that could be twenty or forty years old, but Damian knew she was barely a couple of decades younger than time itself.

She could look as younger as Damian did at that point if he wanted, of course. After all, she had defeated time itself, and obtained the power to control it as she wanted, her and her children as well.

And since she had fought so hard for it, that was probably the reason she sometimes got annoyed at seeing Damian never use his power.

"As you wish, Damian. But tell, what brings you here? You always say you're tired of the palace after we throw a party. I thought you'd be busy with your new toy, after all."

"Actually, mother, that's what I wanted to ask you about. It's not the kind of sacrifice I usually, get, so-"

"Damian, whatever it is, I'm sure there's no one who can take care of an animal better than you."

"It's a human, mother."

Talia's expression froze for a second before breaking into a smile.

"We have to celebrate!" She motioned one of the servants closer and ordered him to bring refreshments, not caring about Damian's protests. "I was getting worried, thinking you'd never get any proper offerings with your usual silly requests. About time you got a proper servant!"

"Mother! I'm not going to keep him as a servant when I can barely guarantee his survival! I take care of my offerings and this is no different!"

"Oh, they're more resilient than you think." Talia waved her hand dismissively. "It won't be a problem."

"I don't see you keep your sacrifices as I keep mine, though. I only have fields there, you live in palaces all the time! How many palaces am I going to have to install for him?"

Talia chuckled. "You're impossible, child. But you'll learn, stop worrying. As long as you don't try to eat them-"

"Wait, what does he even eat?! Will he try to eat the rest?"

"Oh, child, you've managed with mountain lions, you'll manage with humans."

"He hates me, mother."

At Damian's crestfallen face, Talia's expression softened and she moved closer to envelop her son into a hug.

"Damian, I'm sure he'll come to love you like all the others have done. Why don't you get him a couple of gift? I'm sure he'll warm up to you soon enough."

Damian's cheeks reddened without explanation.

"I will try."

"Excellent. Now, why don't you change into your actual form?"

"Not this again, mother."

"You need to take this more seriously, Damian! You might have to fight next year, take care of your city." To Damian's horror, she pinched one of his cheeks. "This isn't the best image to inspire confidence, you know? Your people will want someone they can trust."

"They can trust me!" Damian pushed himself away. "And they didn't even give me the sacrifice I wanted, so I'm not sure I should even bother."

"Damian-" Talia let out a sigh and sat back against the pillows. "Well, as you like. Feel free to use the palace as a reference for the accommodations. And tell me if you need a hand."

"I can manage by myself, mother."

"That's not what you were saying a minute ago. Don't think you can fool me, you're still my child." Talia smiled sharply.

"...yes, mother."

"Good. Now, go."

With a pout that stated clearly his opinion of the advice he had gotten, Damian walked outside. He had gotten no tips he could use to deal with the sacrifice, nothing but lectures on his appearance and how he dealt with the city.

However, thinking back to it, it gave Damian an idea. The sacrifice hadn't been too receptive to his orders. In fact, he hadn't even recognized Damian at first. He always used his natural age to deal with humans in the past, and only reverted to the younger option once he started caring for the animals. Maybe it'd be a good start to deal with the human he had now, as well.

He'd have to eventually ask for the human's name, at some point. He'd have to plan it so it wouldn't be obvious he was asking: after a day, it would be awkward to just ask. And he was Damian! He didn't need to ask humans for anything!

Pondering his options, he kept walking and reached the nearby gardens. They were much neater than his island, but Damian could feel the energy in it, rising to receive him. That was as good of a place as any other to try it out. He hopped on a nearby bench and, after making sure no one was around, he closed his eyes and concentrated.

Nothing happened.

Alright, maybe he was out of practice. After all, he rarely if ever had to use that power, since he hadn't physically checked on the polis in ages.

He tried again. And tried.

It had to be the sacrifice's fault. He had stressed Damian out and tired him and now he didn't have enough energy left to perform the transformation. Damian frowned as he reached for his face. His features felt slightly different, so maybe he had managed to age a couple of years, but he was still too short for his feet to reach the ground. The human might not even notice the change. Curse him.

After ten more minutes he yelled in frustration and went to lie down on the grass. He was completely out of ideas, now. There was no way he was going to ask his mother -she'd probably just lecture him on how it was his own fault for ignoring his duties and not keeping up with his training.

Richard... he'd probably listen, but he was a satyr. His powers were hardly comparable to Damian's, and he was certain that the hability to change their forms at will only belonged to his bloodline.

His mother was right on that, too. He needed to know more people, not just animals.

However, it wasn't the time to cry over what could have been.

Would his father help? He was usually reliable, to a degree. Damian rolled over, unknowingly staining most of his clothes green. It could be worth a try. After all, it was that or asking Ra's, and that was something Damian would never think about. He had been terrified of him when he was an -actual- child, and even though his parents had definitely defeated him, Damian still wanted nothing to do with him. Let him rot in the cave Bruce put him in, for all the matter.

Damian stood up, looking like a mess but full of determination once again. He had places to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to begin working on the next chapter right away, I'm in a Pantheon mood right now :D


	4. Architect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ASHAMED ABOUT HOW LONG THIS TOOK TO UPDATE I actually had it written for MONTHS but completely forgot to post it... yikes. I know. Unforgivable. In my defense it's the longest chapter so far.

The journey from the top of the mountain to the caves wasn't a long one.  As many disagreements as his parents might have, Talia still insisted on having Bruce close -and Bruce didn't seem to mind, either. There was a road spiraling down the mountain, connecting directly the palace to the entrance of the underworld.

Damian glared at the cave entrance. It was cold, dark, and every suggestion he'd made to add a dog or something to liven it up had been rejected. At the present, it was just a gaping maw that seemed intent on pushing everyone away. 'It's not your time, you don't belong here' it tried to say. Once and again, mortals tried to get in, regardless -hence Damian's suggestion. Not that it mattered. His father usually scared them off, which seemed annoying to no end to Damian, but it was easy to see why he'd want some entertainment.

Things would change when Damian became an adult.

Then he remembered he was technically an adult, or would be if he hadn't skipped his training like his mother always told him, and so he shut up and walked inside. 

He wasn't about to acknowledge this, but he needed help. In any case, the way to the mountain's depths was long. He'd have time to think about it. He spared a last thought for the human on the island, told himself he was not doing all this for him -a mere human, please- and stepped inside.

The interior, as he expected, got progressively darker to the point of suffocating the faint light from his torch. The air was humid and cold, chilling him to the bone. Even as an immortal, Damian could feel the effects of the block placed so no human would cross through when alive. 

He was half convinced the trip would be a waste of time and was about to turn back when he turned a corner and the narrow corridor opened to a bigger cave, the walls rising upwards until they disappeared from sight and the faint sound of running water and screeching bats coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. He sighed in relief and stretched his arms, ignoring the way the darkness ahead seemed to loom over him and try to swallow him. He was inside.

"Father, it's me," he called out, barely raising his voice, and immediately felt his presence behind him.

"Hello, Damian." 

Damian turned around, unimpressed by these antics.

"There's no reason to appear behind me, father. It might shock humans, but you know know it has no effect on me."

"It's just the custom," Bruce glowered. He was hardly distinguishable from the rest of the cave, his entire attire as black as darkness itself, but to Damian, he looked the same as usual.

"I'm sure Alfred would agree with me, though. Where is he, by the way?"

"He's quite busy. A war is about to break out between three or four islands, and we need to make preparations for it."

"Oh." Damian hid his disappointment. He wouldn't have minded a couple of warm pastries while he was down there.

"Let's not stay here. I'm sure we have too much to talk about to discuss it all on the doorway."

They walked together further inside, to the magnificent structure dominating the whole space. Damian remembered being fascinated by it as a kid, regardless of his current form. He'd both tried to hunt and tame the bats -although his attempts didn't met much success- and sat on his father's throne.

His feet probably still didn't reach the floor.

"I heard you got your first human offering," Bruce begun speaking.

"I barely told mother, how- nevermind." Damian shook his head. "That's not important. I'm not here for that."

"Of course it's important, Damian. It might not seem like much, but for them it's a big deal. And they're trickier than animals, they're not directly under your domain like them. You can't make it obey like another rabbit."

Damian suppressed the pang of worry the thought brought. He'd already known that. "I can manage one, mother has them in the hundreds, and you've lost count of how many you have."

"The number is ever changing," Bruce replied, and that was the closest thing to an admission Damian would ever get. "But you forget, what I have are souls, which belong to my domain, and your mother has millennia of practice."

"I'm going to give it appropriate housing and all that. I can figure it out."

"Yes, but you need it to be sufficient. Think big, if it thinks it can do better you'll have trouble." 

"Father, you know I'm not good with architecture" Damian replied morosely, hating to admit his weaknesses. "I can't just make a palace appear out of thin air. At least, not a pretty one." 

Bruce seemed to ponder the situation for a moment, then turned towards the abyss. 

"Ra's palaces are still untouched." 

"What?" Damian looked up at his father in confusion. "Aren't they mother's now?" 

"Oh, no, not at all." Bruce let out a deep chuckle. "You know how she is, she insisted on getting everything new. And Ra's used a good amount of power to protect his estate, so that was probably a good call. However, because of that, destroying them would have taken way too much effort than it was worth, so I moved them to one of the empty caves." 

Damian's eyes grew round. 

"Do you mean I could take one of those and put it on my island?" 

"Oh, no." Bruce adjusted his cape and started walking in a straight line into the darkness. "But they could be a good reference." 

Damian, not wanting to be left behind with the souls, rushed behind him. 

"You think coping a palace will be easier?" 

"Of course it will. And you need to practice your powers." Bruce sent him a hard look that made Damian's ears burn. 

"Has mother told you something?" he asked, incensed. It was part of the reason he'd gone there in the first place, but he hated for the topic to be brought up like that. 

"She told me enough," Bruce replied more gently. "Damian, you know there are no shortcuts on this.  You've been careless. And I'm very glad that you can afford to be so. But if you want to be able to use your powers properly, you're the only one that can make it so. You have both mine and Talia's blood in your veins, your potential is practically limitless. The only person responsible for what use you give to it is you."

"Yes, father." Damian sulked. "Can we go now?"

Bruce sighed, and Damian knew he'd wanted more of a reaction, but that was as much as he was going to get. If the only solution was practice, he'd practice, but it wouldn't be where anyone could see.  
The caves further down didn't look much different to Damian, except maybe ten degrees cooler and uncomfortably moist. He wondered what might the bottom caves be like. He didn't precisely feel like visiting his grandfather, though. Damian had barely known him when he was alive, although he wasn't quite dead now. His father could deal with him, in any case. Damian just wanted to see the buildings.

He was rather taken aback when they arrived. The palace looked ridiculously big in the narrow cave, the heights getting lost in the darkness. Damian couldn't quite make out how tall it really was. That, combined with the dark colors, managed to make it seem even more ominous than the voices of the spirits or the caves themselves. He found himself stepping closer to his father, who hadn't said a word in the whole way there.

"What do you think? I know it's not quite your style, but if it doesn't impress your human I don't know what will," Bruce finally said, not noting Damian's reaction.

"It would scare my pe- sacrifices, father. I cannot possibly set this in the middle of the island."

"Are you going to improvise, then?" Bruce directed him a questioning look, but without disapproval. "It will be good practice for you."

"...I just might. But not because you think it proper," Damian huffed, narrowing his eyes slightly. "I can do better than this. Ra's had no idea of style, as it seems."

Bruce made a noise that might have been a laugh, or just a cough. Damian continued.

"Either way, there's not enough space here for me to practice anything. It will be better to return to the island."

"Alright, Damian, good luck." Bruce set his hand heavily on Damian's shoulder. "I'm sure you'll make me proud."

Damian shrugged the hand away, cheeks burning, and muttering a goodbye he walked away as fast as his legs would take him. 

* * *

Tim woke up with a start. While he wasn't completely accustomed to living in Damian's... domains yet, he no longer expected to wake up in his bedroom like every other night. 

However, he hadn't expected to wake up inside a building either. Seeing as he had gone to sleep in a field, and all. Tim rubbed the sleep off his eyes and looked around. The cat that had fallen asleep on his lap was still there, apparently way less worried than Tim. Perhaps the sudden changes were common. Tim still didn't fully understand the extent of Damian's powers, after all. He knew the kid could make meat appear out of thin air, why would castles be any different?

Because it was ridiculous, of course, but what wasn't around there?

"Damian?" He called out without expecting an answer. "Can you warn me next time you do something like this?"

No answer came. He sighed. Most of his interactions with the deity so far seemed to be an annoyance first and foremost, and he wasn't even surprised the lack of thereof might feel like one, as well.

"Come on, furball," he grumbled at the cat, picking it up. It was an exceedingly fluffy one, and soon Tim's own clothes were going to match him at the rate it was shedding. "I don't even know where Damian got you, I know I'd remember your dumb face."

The cat just made a low purring sound in response. Tim sighed and went off to explore.

He found himself on a entrance soon enough, and realized the palace was just placed smack dab in the middle of the plains he'd been sleeping at before. There was nothing around it, not even a road, so his slim hopes of getting somewhere more civilized were promptly crushed. Even the castle didn't seem much like one. It barely had the minimal architectonic requirements to be considered, lacking even doors and any sort of furniture. Tim was even certain he'd seen a stair climb up to the middle of a wall, as if someone had forgotten what was its purpose. Tim would wager that that someone was Damian. The palace was much too big to be a sacrifice, anyway. It wouldn't fit through the temple's doors.

It was no surprise, then, to see that some animals were already trickling in to explore, sniffing around the corners, marking their territory. Tim made a face. It'd probably be of use to shelter them from the rain, but really, it seemed like a waste to have such a beautiful building to no purpose other than have animals relieve themselves. Maybe he'd be able to find a suitable rag in the other house.

Ridiculous, really.

"Let's go, cat. Do you even have a name?" Seeing as the cat failed to reply -what was he doing? Was Damian rubbing off him?- Tim considered it, finally dismissing the possibility as unlikely. There were way too many animals for all of them to have a distinct name, no matter how many might Damian be able to use. "Well, I'll call you Bart, then. You both have terrible hair."

Tim felt a pang of sadness at the memory of his friends back home. Although he had earlier rejected the idea of ever going back home, as the time -days? Weeks?- stretched, he felt his loneliness more sharply. Maybe he'd be able to figure out something about where he was, and how to leave, from the palace.

Exploring took most of the morning and part of the afternoon. The palace turned out to be less bare than Tim had thought at first, but as erratically as he had dreaded. He'd gotten lost no less than five times in the same floor, and by the time he returned to the ground floor he discovered the tiles already soiled and the tapestries full of orange hair. He hadn't let Bart down ever for a second to Bart's surprising acquiescence, so Tim wasn't sure how had that happened. 

Then he saw another cat with the same coat, and sighed. Just how many had Damian managed to hoard? Putting Bart down, he went out to search for the other house -maybe it was still there, maybe not. 

Stepping outside, he discovered a life sized sculpture of Damian. It was just like the ones in the temple, which meant 'extremely idealized' in this case. Tim made a mental comparison between the eight pack deity standing with an heroic pose and the grumpy ten year old he'd seen, and couldn't surprise a laugh. Really, where had that image even come from?

After walking uphill, he found the smaller house just where he had last seen it, a good amount of animals walking around it. Damian had probably just fed them, but by the time Tim arrived the kid was nowhere to be seen. He helped himself to a couple of apples and searched around until he found some cleaning utensils. Tim doubted Damian ever needed to use them, but he wasn't complaining. The house was probably taken straight from the human world and put there, instead of custom made like the palace seemed to be. Regardless, on his tour around it Tim had discovered a number of comfortable-looking bedrooms, and he intended to stay there for the time being, but he'd be damned if he'd stay somewhere full of hair and poop.

Cleaning was more difficult that he anticipated. Apparently, Bart had decided it was petting time, and he kept rubbing himself against Tim's legs in order to make him realize his mistake. Tim wasn't having it, determined as he was, but it kept distracting him. He couldn't be blamed for not hearing the steps behind him, and for spilling water everywhere when someone yelled.

"What in the world do you think you're doing?!"

Tim whirled around and came face to face with the statue at the entrance. He corrected himself. Not the statue exactly, but what seemed like a live version of it. Where there had been perfectly chiseled abs of white marble, now there were perfectly chiseled abs of smooth, tanned skin, and where there had been empty eyes now there were a pair of furious, green eyes directed straight at Tim. Was the statue a guardian of the palace? No one had told Tim he couldn't be there, though, so why was he so angry?

"I'm cleaning, isn't it obvious?" He tried to glare right back at the man, but it was difficult to look intimidating when you barely reach someone's chin. "Why don't you yell at the animals who dirtied it?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Tim saw Bart come over and rub himself against the stranger's legs. Tim muttered 'traitor' at him, but Bart didn't seem to care.

"I know you're cleaning. But you're not supposed to be cleaning. You're not a servant, are you?"

Tim bristled up at that.

"I might not be a servant, but I don't have anyone to work for me, and I don't want to sleep in such conditions. And what would you know, anyway? You're just a statue!"

The stranger blinked at him in confusion.

"I'm not a statue, you idiot. I own this, and I own you. Are human memories so fickle that you already forgot about me?"

Tim paused, taken aback. Was he- but he couldn't be, could he? Damian was the petulant child hoarding pets in a paradise island, not the gorgeous youth represented in states all around Tim's polis. Who might or might not have been part of some of Tim's fantasies as he grew up.

Except just like he was able to make food and castles appear out of thin air, he might've able to change himself at will. Didn't the tales his teachers taught them tell similar stories?

Bart walked over to rub against maybe-Damian's legs. The traitor.

"...are you Damian?" He felt his cheeks redden, aware that he'd been staring for too long.

The stranger paused and looked down at himself. What he found apparently surprised him, but he schooled his features fast enough to leave Tim wondering if he hadn't just imagined it.

"Who else would I be?" Damian picked up Bart, and Tim hated himself for regretting that his chest was no longer in sight. "What nonsense were you sprouting about a statue?"

"Nothing," Tim replied immediately. "I'm just tired. Been cleaning, and all."

"That's ridiculous. You don't have to clean, you just have to live here."

"Am I meant to live here, after all?" Tim wasn't sure whether to be shocked or relieved.

"Of course. Even I know that the plains aren't a proper living situation for a human. Do you require for someone to clean after you?"

Tim paused. Was Damian going to kidnap a human? Or had he gotten another sacrifice? Tim didn't want to get a partner with the same fate thrown below him as a servant.

"The rooms need to be cleaned. However, I can do it by myself."

"No, you will not clean. Mother will give me someone, I'm certain." Damian kissed Bart's head before putting him down, managing to look even less intimidating than his younger form for a moment. "Stay where you are, and don't touch anything."

When Tim blinked, he was gone.

"Seems like it's only you and me again, eh, Bart?" 

Tim shook his head. One thing was clear: regardless of what he looked like, Damian still was a petulant, arrogant brat.

* * *

Kon hadn't seen his not human parent in many years. In fact, he'd only been old enough to remember in one occasion, and it ended with his parents arguing and Kon being left with just a vague idea of how to reach Kal-El. He hadn't realized until that day that having the sun god as an absent father figure was, at the very least, uncommon. For him, it had always felt no different from Tim's parents, who were always away on long trade trips, and that was in fact what the rest of the village thought Kon's other father was. Not that any of them had met him, but the story, somehow, held up well on years of custom.

However, Tim's parents still showed up once or twice a year, and other than that, there was no knowing what they were doing. Meanwhile, Kal-El was never there, yet Kon knew where he was at all times. The sun lived in a fortress in the North Pole, and that was precisely his destination now. He was, possibly, the only human -at least in part- that could successfully reach it. 

He never had tried to in the past. Never needed to. 

But that wasn't going to stop him.

The north was cold. That, Kon had know now before making his way there. However, it was one thing to know the theory, and another to find himself in the middle of it.  
Hell, there was  _ice_  everywhere. At first it had only been in the mountains, but, as he flew towards the pole, the landscape begun to change slowly. Kon couldn't imagine any normal humans could survive there, and couldn't understand why would a god chose to. Not that he was complaining -okay, maybe a little- since it allowed him to fly undetected and use his powers as he saw fit. He'd gotten more practice in that couple of days as he had the whole rest of his life.

Still, he'd rather not use up all his energies trying to keep himself warm or finding something to eat. He had to hurry.

He hadn't explained anyone where was he going, or, at least not the true goal of the trip. Lex suspected, of course, but he'd raised no objections. Still, he'd promised to return within the week, and even though Tim was more important than social convention... Kon had his duties back home.

Specifically, defending said home if the tensions with the nearby polis escalated into a full out conflict. Kon's powers gave him an undeniable advantage, and as such he had the responsibility to keep everyone safe. He'd never forgive himself if another of his friends got injured in battle, when he could have been there.

Having to choose between Tim and the rest of the world wasn't an option. And so, he wouldn't choose.

He'd save them all.

As he thought that, a building's sharp edges became visible over the horizon, barely glinting in the light.

It could only be one thing, and Kon speed up, ready to meet his destiny.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, made up history AUs are my weakness, and since Damian ended up a slave in the last one this time he's higher up in the pyramid (but he's gonna fall for Tim all the same) ok I'll show myself out. Enjoy the fic <3
> 
> I'll update the character tags as they appear.


End file.
